The Library
by EmilyTheRose
Summary: Now, I'm just a simple school librarian, trying to live out the rest of her days in peace. Tutoring is turning into torture and I'm not sure how long my poor heart can survive. OneShot.


Just a quick drabble. It kind of goes along with The Crane Game. I've been writing from different POVs and I'm finding it kind of fun. If you have any other strange POV suggestions that would be fun.

And Sailor Moon is sadly not mine. The series of course. Owning the person would be cartoon slavery.

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"The Library"

Honestly, I'm not a stick in the mud like most of the children seem to think. In my day I was quite the…catch. I suppose being 60 years older than when I was in high school makes a difference. Funny how age makes you less and less "cool" every year. Being a librarian probably doesn't help either. You don't see many "hip" librarians these days. I don't mind. I had my chance to be young and I enjoy the rest the library gives me. Being surrounded by books everyday is worth the headache of having to deal with…teenagers. Just the word still sends a shiver down my spine.

I'm sure this sounds a bit clichéd but kids these days are rowdy. It's a bit appalling how few children actually come to the library to read. I say "shh" more than any human being should have to. For example, tutoring during lunch is held here every day. I don't have a real problem with that. The tutors are more often than not mature students who can keep the peace.

I could always trust that I would be able to have my tuna sandwich and thermos of coffee at my desk in peace. It was always heartening to listen to the quiet chatter and the sudden understanding. Actual learning going on at a school. How zany is that?

This was all before this year, of course. I watched the clock as it slowly ticked toward the fateful lunch bell. My stubby fingernails never survived these last few minutes. Anxiety welled up in my throat and I forced myself to take calming breathes. Then the lunch bell rang.

My breathing suddenly became erratic and a few students looked my way. I could have sworn I heard one whisper, "Old bat." What a nice thought to start off my daily torture with.

The door to my poor, quiet library swung open as a young man with ebony hair and midnight blue eyes stalked in, slamming down his book on the nearest table. I gulped and turned back to the door. My eyes trained to look for those two twin shaped buns.

As if on cue, the blonde rushed in, only an inch away from knocking over an entire shelf of books, and flopped her bag down too. Only after she was safely seated away from the giant, domino like book shelves that I stopped clutching my heart. While I knew the worst was yet to come, any disaster that could be avoided was a relief.

Today I would ignore them. That was my only thought as I slowly reached in my door and pulled out a brown paper bag. Blissfully, the crinkle of the bag was the loudest sound in the library. I released a sigh and pushed a lock of white hair back into my bun with a shaking hand. Maybe they would be okay today. Maybe the library would still be my own little sanctuary. Maybe, just may, she could finally-

"AH!"

-die. Maybe I would just die. My head leaned into my hand and I rubbed my temples, trying to imagine myself at this time last year. It had been so nice, so quiet. It was odd how I never really appreciated that level of peace back then.

"What now Odango?" the ebony haired boy asked. From what I'd heard of their last few sessions his name was either Jerkwad, Nerd, or Darien. The most likely option was Darien, but what do I know? Names were getting stranger every year.

"I just don't get it!" the blonde cried. I didn't even bother to shush them anymore. I'm not even sure they would have heard me.

"What don't you get now?" the boy I assumed to be named Darien asked with a sigh.

"Just…everything! When will I ever use math anyway? It's the dumbest thing ever."

"First off, people use math every day. Second, you're the dumbest thing ever, Odango. Maybe if you spent as much time studying as you do staring at Andrew-"

"I DO NOT!" she yelped, jumping from her seat. My scream of protest caught in my throat as Darien caught her wrist before she collided with another book shelf. I found myself wishing I had spiked my coffee that morning. It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed my mind.

"Will you sit down? You're going to give the librarian a heart attack!"

"Too late," I muttered, already taking out a bottle of pills from the top of my drawer. The headache dulled a little but I knew that it was only a temporary fix.

The blonde made her way back to her seat and mumbled something intelligible. Why couldn't she talk that way all the time? I tried to fantasize about what life would be like if she suddenly became a mumbler. Oh, how blissful it would be.

"Odango, what are you mumbling about now?"

"How did I get stuck with a jerkwad like you as a tutor?" she said, pronouncing every word carefully before collapsing on the pile of books.

"Odango-"

"SERENA!" she yelled, sitting straight up again. "My name is Serena! Why can't you get that through your thick skull? For a smart guy, you're really dumb."

"Said the girl getting tutored. Now come on. We're going to get something done today," he commanded, as if that were going to happen. I'd never seen them make any progress at all in the previous few months. Every day it was the same routine for them. Enter, argue, yell, knock something over, yell some more, and leave. Eventually I came up with my own modified routine that correlated to theirs. Panic, get a headache, think of different ways they might go mute, pick up whatever was knocked over, take some medication to soothe the headache, and spend an hour trying to win down again.

The whole situation was ridiculous.

"What's the point?"

I raised an eyebrow. While no real progress was ever made, Serena had always at least tried. I would sometimes look over to see them sitting quietly, for at least a few precious moments, and she would have her nose scrunched up in concentration, trying to wrap her mind around something Darien had said. They almost looked sweet together when they were quiet.

I stopped pretending to organize papers and looked directly over at the pair. Serena was looking over at a far corner of the room, her eyes misted over. Her mouth was pulled down in a slight frown, unlike the angry grimaces she usually wore with the boy. She shook her head for a moment and then rested her head on her arms, her face hidden.

"Oda-Serena."

She raised her head a fraction of an inch but quickly buried her face again. Even from here I could see the slight glisten on her cheeks. My heart went out to her and I was about to go over when the young man piped up again.

"The point is that you can do this." A muffled snort came out through the mess of blonde hair. "You can. Contrary to everything I've ever said, you're smart enough to do this. Me saying that probably doesn't mean much to you but you have to keep trying. You've got to prove to yourself you can do it, okay?"

I watched as she lifted her head and furiously rubbed her eyes. A new sense of determination lit her eyes and she gave a shaky sigh.

"Okay," she whispered and the pair started to whisper. They were actually whispering. It was a miracle!

"Well, that was interesting," a familiar voice behind me declared. I jumped with a start.

"Charlie!" I playfully hit him on the arm and he smiled back, eyes dancing with the youth I know he'd never lose.

"Do you remember when we were like that Ethel?" he asked, pouring himself a bit of coffee from my thermos. "I swear, some things never change do they?"

I gave him what I meant to be a withering look but he just laughed at me, pulling out his own PB&J sandwich and taking a huge bite.

I heaved a sigh and watched as arguing erupted again. This time, though, I noticed the twinkle in her eyes, the way she held herself just close enough but not too close, the way her breathe was knocked out of chest every time he looked at her, and the way she covered it all up. I smirked back and shook my head.

"We were like _that_?"

"Oh no, honey. We were much, much worse."

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Reviews are always helpful and they make me feel all good inside. You want me to feel good inside, right?

Oh, and sorry if this is riddled with typos. I pumped this one out kind of quick too.


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